


misery needs company, so i'm glad i have you

by TheNightbloodSolution



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Fundamental Misunderstanding Of a How a Car Works Wells Jaha, Mechanic Raven Reyes, Misunderstandings, Pining, Teacher Bellamy Blake, Teacher Clarke Griffin, i mean it's me it's always fluff you know?, wellarke braven brotps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22306684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNightbloodSolution/pseuds/TheNightbloodSolution
Summary: Raven and Bellamy think they're handling their respective crushes pretty well, honestly. For the both of them being relationship disasters typically, they think they've finally got a shot with this one. That is, until they realize both of their crushes are married. To each other.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Wells Jaha/Raven Reyes
Comments: 13
Kudos: 186





	misery needs company, so i'm glad i have you

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this a long, long time ago. Let it sit for months. Then, I went back and realized I had written 90% of the fic already, so I may as well finish it. (Wellarke/Braven brotp for life, fuck canon.)

Bellamy and Raven aren’t great at feelings. Truth be told, both are more “fuck it out” than they are “talk it out” kind of people. Still, the day they find out Wells and Clarke are together, they can’t help but commiserate.

Raven met Wells at the Intro to Mechanics class she teaches at her AutoShop. She designed the course for the typical damsel in distress damned by a society that never taught them how to change a tire, but she got a range of customers interested in the course. She got her intended audience, of course, but also some elderly folks who thought for some reason sitting in a car garage made a good Sunday pastime, parents with kids who wanted to learn, but they weren’t able to teach, and unfortunately, some guys all too familiar with cars that simply showed up to flirt with her. Those ones usually got scared off after the first lesson. So, when Wells showed up, 6’2”, dreamy, and no idea how to even pop the hood on his own car, Raven was smitten.

Bellamy met Clarke in the staff lounge at the middle school where he teaches. One day, she wasn’t there, and the next, she was lounging in _his_ comfy arm chair acting like she owned the place and she’d been there for years. She taught the sixth grade art elective, and he taught sixth grade history, so they were practically obligated to gossip about the students they had in common. She always drinks more than half the coffee pot he brews for himself at school in the morning, despite already having had a cup at home, and she’s got this smile that makes Bellamy’s insides do this weird jumpy thing that he sometimes mistakes for indigestion. It’s not long before she’s in all the stories he tells Octavia about his coworkers and she’s got him admitting to himself that he’s got a little more than a huge crush.

And it’s fine until they all meet _each other_.

* * *

Bellamy’s sitting on a stool, book in hand, in the corner of Raven’s garage, hoping he’s far enough from the splash radius. He has on one of his rattiest, old T-shirts just in case, because no matter how far he stays from the actual cars, he always ends up grease-ridden and oil-stained. The sun has finally removed itself from the clouds, and it’s actually hot out for the first time in ages, so he’s got on his cut-off shorts that Raven makes fun of him for, but the jokes on her, because he has great legs.

“What’s the plan today, boss?” Bellamy says from behind his book.

“You know you don’t work here anymore, right?” Raven retorts. “Like I’m not going to pay you to sit in a corner reading a book and pondering life in ancient Rome. You’re doing that of your own free will.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “Seriously, what’ve you got going on today? Another intro course?”

Raven nods. “I’ve got to fix up this one first,” Raven pats a truly hideous green car next to her, “But after that I should have some people coming by.”

“What’s the lesson?”

“I’m thinking application. I might have them review how to change a tire and do it themselves this time, see if they can remember all the steps. I mean, I can teach them the inner workings of an engine eighty times over, but they probably won’t use it, at least this might help them on the side of the road.”

“And is _Wells_ coming?” Bellamy lilts his voice over the name.

Raven chucks a small, stray car part at him. Maybe this is how Bellamy always ends up with grease on his clothes.

“Yes, he’s coming. If you make it weird, I’m going to strangle you.”

Bellamy raises both hands and feigns innocence.

He’s only returned to his book for a few minutes when Raven pipes up again. “Hey, that’s Wells. He’s with someone.” She doesn’t sound excited.

Bellamy raises his head to see who he presumes to be Wells walking toward them, his arm around a blonde. They’re making a steady pace down the sidewalk, and the closer they get, the more Bellamy’s heart sinks. Because he recognizes those sunglasses she’s wearing with the rhinestones on the sides, and the leather jacket she’s sporting, despite the sun blasting down on them. Before he knows it, Wells is walking into the garage with his arm slung around Clarke, keeping her close.

“Hey, Raven!” Wells says brightly. “This is Clarke.”

“Nice to meet you,” Raven responds, with notably less enthusiasm. She shakes Clarke’s hand briefly, but Clarke’s head is whipped around to face Bellamy.

“Bellamy!” Clarke exclaims, running over to land straight in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

“Wait, Bellamy?” Wells asks, turning to observe him. “As in _the_ Bellamy? You’re in all her stories from work.”

Clarke blushes. “Not _all_ of them.”

“Close to it. Over dinner, it’s constantly, ‘Bellamy said this, Bellamy did that, did you know that Bellamy-’”

“We get it!” Clarke gets him off the subject, face oddly close to tomato red at this point.

And Bellamy is happy that he invades her stories just as much as she invades his, but he can’t stop thinking about them conversing over dinner. Friends have dinner. He has dinner with Raven and Miller. He has dinner with Octavia. Maybe they’re just friends. Yeah. Just friends.

“So, Clarke are you joining the lesson today?” Raven asks, voice more pointed than she probably intends.

“Oh, no. My dad actually taught me about cars growing up, unlike some people,” she jokes.

“I don’t think my dad could’ve actually taught me anything even if he did try,” Wells says seriously.

“Okay, then Wells, you and I can get started while we wait for the rest of the class. Do you remember how to…” Raven’s voice trails off to Bellamy as Clarke invades his space, all bright smiles and smelling of lavender, even in this smelly, old garage. And somehow she’s managed not to get any grease on _her_ clothes.

The ‘just friends’ prediction is looking good for the next two hours, as Raven and Wells chat steadily throughout the lesson, even as other patrons funnel into the shop. Bellamy and Clarke keep each other company, talking about his book and school and the weird diet Clarke’s mom is going on right now. They’re right in the middle of discussing the merits of Greek versus Roman mythology when the kiss of death comes.

“Oh, crap.” Wells cries. “Clarke, we’ve got to go, we’re late. We’ve got dinner with our parents.”

Clarke groans. “Can’t we stay a little longer?”

Wells snorts, “You can do whatever you want, but I’m not leaving Abby Griffin waiting.”

“Fine.” Clarke sighs, “But we’re going home right after, I want to watch Netflix. And I’m not letting your dad go on any of his longwinded political rants either.”

“Deal.”

They walk out of the garage the same way they walked in, with Wells’s arm around Clarke’s shoulders. They bid Raven and Bellamy goodbye, leaving both dumbfounded in the wake of finding out their crushes are together.

* * *

Which brings them to commiserating. Sitting side by side in Murphy’s bar, nursing their drinks and bemoaning their lives.

 _Sanctum_ really isn’t the venue for the type of misery Bellamy and Raven are sporting tonight. The lights are flashing every which way as people around them dance and laugh. Ever since Murphy rebranded _The Dropship_ to become _Sanctum_ , it’s been all purple lights and crazy music to draw in a younger crowd and while they can usually blend in, tonight, Bellamy and Raven look sorely out of place.

“They’re fucking married,” Raven spits. “Did you see him? With his arm around her? _Married_.”

“Yes!” Bellamy grinds his teeth. “And having dinner with their parents? Like some domestic… _ugh_.”

“I hate them.” Raven says.

“I’ll drink to that.”

They both knock back way too many drinks, but Raven has the tolerance of a god, and Bellamy doesn’t so, of course, he’s the one slurring his words and stumbling around the bar, telling any patron who will stop dancing to listen that he’s had his heart crushed with a sledgehammer.

Raven is coping slightly better, telling her story to Murphy instead random bystanders, but that also means she isn’t watching Bellamy, and isn’t there to stop him as he pulls up Clarke’s number from his contacts and hits the call button.

She picks up on the second ring, and he can hear the TV playing faintly in the background. It’s a Netflix documentary, one he recommended her. “Bellamy?”

“Clarke!” He exclaims. “How was dinner with your parents?” He hopes he’s coherent.

He truly tries to listen as she recaps about eating with some guy named Thelonious or Hippopotamus or something, but he’s having trouble balancing and he drops the phone.

He scrambles to pick up, and, “-Bellamy? You okay? You still there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He slurs.

“Are you… drunk?” She asks.

He nods, before he realizes she can’t see him and seriously says, “Trashed.”

She laughs, and he’s pleased because honestly, her laugh is one of his favorite noises in the world. Definitely top three. His mood sours as he realizes Wells probably gets to listen to it all the time.

“Where are you?” She asks. “Do you need someone to come pick you up?”

“No, no!” He says hastily, “I’m at _Sanctum_ , but Raven’s here. It’s fine.”

“And is _she_ drunk?”

“Well, yeah, but she holds her liquor a lot better than I do.” He glances over at Raven, who’s moved past recounting her story to Murphy to obnoxiously arguing with the guy next to her about something, probably sports.

“I’m on my way.” The phone clicks, and Clarke’s hung up, and Bellamy groans. Maybe he shouldn’t have called her.

So, that’s how Clarke and Wells end up at Sanctum, looking just as much a modelesque couple as they did this afternoon and really, it’s just not fair.

As bitter as he is, Bellamy can’t help but be a little relieved he’s got a ride home to his little apartment where he can cry in the privacy of his own bed and then get some sleep, so he tugs Raven out of her argument and drags her with and then they’re all piling into Wells’s car.

He makes it about a block before he falls asleep, head resting in Raven’s lap.

Raven is politely _refusing_ to speak, despite Wells’s many attempts to make conversation with her.

But maybe she isn’t as polite as she thinks because she hears Clarke lean over to Wells and say, “You didn’t tell me she was an angry drunk.”

“I’m _not_ an angry drunk.” Raven snaps, absolutely negating her point.

Clarke looks over her shoulder from the passenger’s seat and cocks an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes!” Raven huffs. “I’m just angry about…”

“About?” Wells asks, concern coating his voice.

“About what you did to Bellamy.” Raven deflects, crossing her arms.

“Bellamy?” Clarke asks.

“No the other guy madly in love with you. Yes, Bellamy.” Raven says sarcastically.

Clarke chokes on air for a second and adjusts her seatbelt, which is suddenly cutting into her side and constricting her oxygen flow. “What do you mean?”

Raven rolls her eyes. Maybe she is an angry drunk. She’s certainly angry right now. How can the two of them sit there, knowing they lead her and Bellamy on? They _have_ to have known what they were doing. There were too many times she was sure Wells was flirting back.

“I just think it’s funny how you never once mentioned you were married to Bellamy. He talks about you nearly constantly, everything is ‘Clarke this, Clarke that.’ It’s _so_ obvious he has feelings for you. And you never once tell him about your husband?”

“My _husband_?!” Clarke screeches.

It’s a miracle Bellamy doesn’t wake up.

Clarke levels her voice. “I don’t have a husband.”

“How can you say that?” Raven lements. “He’s sitting right there!”

Wells and Clarke share a glance, for as long as Wells can keep his eyes off the road safely before the two both burst into laughter.

“You,” Clarke pauses to laugh some more, “You thought we were married? Me and _Wells_?”

Raven is caught, because inside her gut is unclenching with the thought of, _You’re not?_ But she also feels like she has to defend herself. “You guys came into the shop all touchy-touchy! And then you said you were going to see your parents together and then go home to watch Netflix!”

Wells’s deep voice cuts through for the first time in a while. “We’re roommates, Raven. Just roommates.”

“Technically, we’re step-siblings.” Clarke adds on. “But that only just happened a couple of months ago. Our parents were close friends growing up. Wells’s mom died when we were in elementary school and then my dad died in college, and apparently after that, when Wells and I had moved away, my mom and his dad just got even closer. Wells has always felt like my brother growing up, but it just became official recently.”

“So, you’re not…” Raven trailed off.

“ _No_.” Clarke emphasized. “But can we go back to Bellamy's crush on me?"

Raven stammers, her cheeks lighting up. She hadn’t meant to accidentally give away her best friend’s crush, she was just so _angry_ at them.

“Fine, we don’t have to.” Clarke says flippantly, which seems out of place. “I just can’t believe you thought we were married when Wells clearly wants to go out with you.”

“Clarke!” Wells exclaims. “Not cool.”

The bubbling in Raven’s gut is fully gone now. Instead, something else is filling it. Butterflies? “You want to go out with me?” Raven’s never heard herself sound that timid and hopeful, and honestly, when she’s sober, she’s one hundred percent blaming that tone on the booze.

“I, um… yeah, of course. I like you. A lot.” Wells clarifies, thankful to have the excuse of driving not to look his crush in the eye as he says the words. “Your class is really fun and all, don’t get me wrong, but I would’ve stopped going weeks ago if you weren’t the one teaching it.”

Raven and Wells flirt the rest of the way home, much to Clarke’s chagrin. Wells ends up carrying Bellamy up to Raven’s place because none of them can find the key to Bellamy's apartment, and they set him down on the couch to crash there. Clarke brushes the hair out of his eyes and removes his glasses before getting up to leave.

Wells is already out the door when Clarke stops to leave Raven with a message. “Hey, Raven? Tell Bellamy that I like him, too. And tell him to call me.”

Raven grins and nods, her mood having done the biggest one-eighty she’s ever been privy to. She collapses back in her chair and can’t stop the smile on her face. She got the guy. Bellamy got the girl. Maybe they're not as doomed as they thought.

* * *

Three years later, Wells gives a speech at Bellamy and Clarke’s wedding and tells the embarrassing story of how his girlfriend and Clarke’s newly-wed husband thought that they were already married and then called them out on the car ride home.

It’s a good thing it all worked out in the end.


End file.
